I think I c...

If my heart were a train
I wouldn't call her Thomas
Thomas was plucky and steady
And she feels like the shakiest thing about me.
If I'm lucky
She's on the tracks this week
If I'm not
I'm lucky if she remembers 
She still has to make it into the station.
She runs on tracks
With lush country on one side
And stars made of lighted windows on the other
And she can't decide where to stay
So she keeps chugging
Not plucky like Thomas 
Though I wish
There's a stench of fear in her smoke
That I can't seem to get rid of. 
It's in every red seat 
Caked on every wheel and window
And instead of slowing her down
It causes movement like oil
She's moving so fast that she slides down the track
Past the tall and green and gray trees
Pale and neon stars
Green and rainbow animals
She's moving so fast 
I'm pretty sure she's going to hit a wall some time
That wall will be made of bricks
Made of concrete laced with decisions
She isn't ready to make
Again is afraid she'll never be ready to make
She knows this
But there's so much fucking oil everywhere
It's hard to take a wheel back
Turn your head from the smoke
And wash the grime from the seats and windows
So you can let the light shine in.
But it's hard to remember that's it's only a jacket
Not your entire skin
So I hope not-Thomas will stop 
Give the tracks a break
And her wheels a rest
Because I can not keep going like this forever.
 
This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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